


I Love the Night

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam Winchester, Complete, Drinking, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Heterosexual Sex, Language, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Monster of the Week, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Oblivious Dean, One Shot, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Season/Series 09 Spoilers, Series Spoilers, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3280835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers are in a bad place and Dean is coping with it the only way he knows how; with booze, sarcasm and sex. He soon gets a lot more than he has bargained for, thanks to a sultry redhead. With Sam not answering his calls, Dean has no choice but to ask Castiel for help before the hunger takes over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my, am I happy to finally share this with you guys. This is my first time participating in the SPN Reverse Bang and, I tell you, it was quite an experience. I’m totally not used to using someone else’s idea to write but I found the experience quite enjoyable.
> 
> The second I saw patriciatepes' montage and prompt, the story just came to me. To the point where I started writing it _before_ the official prompt request date. I was just lucky enough to get it. So thank you Patricia… you can see her art as you read the story but you can also go take a look at her [LJ Masterpost](http://patriciatepes.livejournal.com/57400.html) and let her know if you like her stuff. (please note that right now her page is locked. It will be unlocked later today…)
> 
> I also wanna thank my ever so lovely beta [outofminutes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/outofminutes/pseuds/outofminutes) for reading my stuff again. What would I ever do without you??? She’s not participating in the Reverse Bang but you can still visit her AO3 page… her [DCBB](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2643335/chapters/5902235) is just awesome!!
> 
> I really hope you will appreciate this little "Monster of the week" story. It is situated somewhere in Season 9, towards the end maybe? Also, this is NOT a Destiel story… (my first non-Destiel piece, it almost feels unnatural), but I still tried to integrate a type of tension I think we can see in the show. I said I TRIED… lol
> 
>  
> 
> .

****

 

“Hello, handsome. May I buy you a drink?”

In a sluggish movement, Dean Winchester shifted on his bar stool to look at the woman who had addressed him. His vision might have been a bit blurry, thanks to all the whiskey he had consumed, but there was no denying that the woman sitting next to him was stunning. He took in her long red hair, fearing that Abaddon might be back from the dead.

But it wasn’t the Knight of Hell, so he gave her a leering smile.

“Why, of course you may,” he answered, his speech a bit slurred.

She signalled the waiter with an elegant hand gesture. Dean downed what was left of his own drink, intended on honouring the pretty lady’s offering. When the glasses were placed before them, he raised his to clink it to hers. She nodded and smiled back at him.

“So, what’s making you so miserable on such a nice evening?” she asked after taking a first sip of her own drink.

“Meh… not interesting,” Dean countered with a wink. “I’d rather you told me about yourself instead.”

“Only if you’ll tell me your name,” she teased, wrapping her tongue around the red plastic stirrer.

Dean automatically retaliated by licking his lips. “Fine! The name’s Dean… your turn.”

“Maura… pleased to meet you, Dean.”

“Same here… now, _Maura_ , please tell me about yourself,” Dean asked again, his hand grazing the redhead’s knee.

“There’s not much to say, I’m afraid,” she said, not paying attention to Dean’s soft gesture. “Just a regular girl who lives in the moment, spending her life on the road, going anywhere the wind takes her.”

“You and me, honey,” he replied, a little impressed. “What do you drive?”

“Oh, I don’t drive. I rely on the kindness of strangers. And before you say anything, yes I can defend myself. I assure you, you wouldn’t want to see me mad.”

“Or maybe I would,” he countered, a goofy smile on his lips. “What do you say we go somewhere more… more private?” he offered before swallowing the last of his drink.

“All right… let’s get out of here,” Maura agreed after a short pause, grabbing the small leather purse she had set on the bar.

There was a motel a couple of streets over so Dean didn’t even consider taking the Impala. He knew he was so drunk it would take him longer to try and drive there than to just walk anyway. Maura followed him in silence, hanging onto his arm.

“I’m kind of hungry, aren’t you?” she said as they walked by a coffee shop. She saw him purse his lips, obviously not in the mood for coffee. “Come on, I bet they have delicious pastries.”

Dean almost argued that pastries weren’t what he wanted to have in his mouth right now, but he let her pull him inside anyway. She told him to find a nice place to sit while she ordered coffee and chocolate croissants for the both of them. It took a moment for Dean to find decent seats as the place was weirdly busy for this time of night.

“Must be time for finals,” Maura said as she placed the tray on the table.

“Wha’…?” Dean asked, confused.

“The reason it’s so busy; everyone has their nose in a book. Must be exam period.”

Dean looked around, still confused by Maura’s unsought explanation. But he was too drunk to think about anything so he just shrugged and grabbed one of the croissants from the plate.

“Thanks,” he mumbled around his first bite.

“My pleasure.” She emptied a couple of sugar packets in her coffee and gave it an energetic stir.

“So I guess this makes me the girl, right?” Dean said with a snort.

She grinned. “Depends… do you intend on putting out?”

“Huhuh…” he muttered, transfixed by the movement of her spoon twirling in the cup.

“All right, but I’d like for you to tell me what’s troubling you first. I’m a very good listener,” she said, tapping the spoon on the cup’s rim. She took her pastry and started ripping it into pieces. “If you’re the girl, that means you should be more than happy to tell me all about your little troubles and feelings.”

“Fine… s’boring though,” Dean warned her before shoving the last of his croissant in his mouth. “It’s just… I had this huge fight with my brother.”

“What about?”

“Huh… dunno anymore. He’s just pissed. Can’t even say how I’ve messed up this time.”

“Don’t see him for a while, then. It’ll blow over eventually.”

“Nah…” Dean said in a slur, the coffee not helping one bit in sobering him up. “We work together. But he might leave. He’s done it before…”

Maura nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “How about your parents? Other siblings?”

“He’s all I got… but he hates me.” Dean didn’t even realise that he was pouting again. “Imma gonna end up ’lone.”

“Come on, a nice looking guy like you? There’s some cute girl that’ll want to pop out a couple of rugrats for you, no doubt about it.”

Dean huffed, opting not to share too much on the subject. “Not likely, no…”

“Not a family man, I take? I can respect that. I don’t have a place for kids in my life either. You know, living on the road and all.”

“No shit,” he agreed, starting to get a bit impatient. His coffee was still hot but he downed it in big gulps nonetheless. He wasn’t even subtle as he leaned forward to take a look at Maura’s own cup, only to see that it was still more than half full.

Maura saw his annoyed pout and smiled, amused. She mirrored Dean in chugging her own coffee before taking his hand and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Come on, baby… let’s go,” she whispered, getting up and pulling the hunter so he’d follow.

When they entered the rented room at the nearby motel – this time Dean being gallant and paying for it – their interactions were anything but sweet. They were passionate, driven by a whole other kind of hunger, their mouths having fused together the moment the door had closed.

Glad to see Maura was the type of woman unafraid to take the lead, Dean let her manhandle him. It didn’t take long for him to be completely naked while she was still wearing most of her clothes, which he found sexy as hell. He didn’t even try to unhook her bra or slide off her silk underskirt, loving the feeling of the fabric under his fingers.

They were soon lying on the bed, Dean on his back with Maura straddling his hips. Settling both her hands on either side of his head, she dropped down to take his left nipple in her mouth, sucking and nibbling until it was hard. She offered the same treatment to the other sensitive nub before kissing her way up his neck. When he felt her teeth break his skin, Dean’s drunkenness prevented him from hurting – or caring – all that much.

She let his neck go with a slurp, only to bite again on his shoulder as she sheathed herself onto him in one swift movement. He cried out, not in pain but in ecstasy, lost in the warmth of her body. When she kissed him, her mouth tasted like copper but the hunter didn’t mind, swallowing her tangy spit with gusto and pounding his sex into hers.

Maura supported her own weight with one hand a tight grip on his leg as she pleasured herself with the other. She gyrated her hips, arching her back and moaning loudly. Dean could feel her long hair lightly brushing over his legs as she moved on him. He came with a groan, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise the skin. She followed soon after with a high-pitched cry, making him tremble as her insides clenched on his over-sensitive dick.

She slid off of Dean and let her body fall down at his side, caressing his cheek with her hand. She kissed him hard, once more pushing her saliva in his mouth. It still tasted weird but he was too exhausted to care. The only somewhat rational thought he could muster was how they hadn’t even bothered with a condom. Dean fell asleep hoping he hadn’t boned an Amazon chick again.

Satisfied to see the man passed out, Maura got off the bed, licking the blood off her lips. She went to the bathroom and put her dress back on before taking the black eyeliner from her purse. After writing on the big mirror affixed to the dresser, she walked back to the bed and kissed the hunter on the forehead.

“Goodbye, lover… see you soon,” she breathed before disappearing into the night.

≈ ◊ ≈

When Dean woke up, he was alone and hungover. He was also hungry but the thought of ingesting anything made his stomach lurch. He blamed the taste of pure death that was lingering on his tongue.

He tried to open his eyes but he clearly had forgotten to close the drapes the night before. It felt as if the room was sitting directly on the sun it was so bright. When the pain subsided, he covered his eyes with his hand, peeking through the cracks between his fingers to try and find the bathroom.

Since most motels had a similar layout, he didn’t have to search for very long before locating it. Eyes closed, he rolled off the bed and felt his way towards his salvation. He couldn’t suppress a satisfied hum when he found the handle and opened the door.

Only once inside did he dare open his eyes, the darkness of the small room a salve on his aching irises. He blinked repeatedly, his eyeballs feeling just as dry as his throat. Facing the mirror, he let the cold water run for close to a minute before cupping his hands under the stream.

He didn’t swallow his first mouthful, instead trying to rinse the foulness from his mouth. After spitting in the sink, he filled his hands again and splashed the water on his face. Only then did he try to quench his thirst with a huge gulp of the crisp water.

A second later, he was kneeling with his head in the toilet bowl, thinking how he should be impervious to hangovers by now. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been sick after an alcohol binge. Still, the signs were all there, loud and clear. Mostly loud.

There was someone listening to television at a volume that should be deemed illegal, even during the day. Somewhere else a couple was obviously not worried about disturbing their neighbours. He could even hear the maid going back and forth outside his door with her damn squeaking cart. It was like the entirety of the motel’s population knew Dean was hungover and had decided to fuck with him.

It took a while for Dean to be able to get up again, flushing the whole contents of his stomach down the drain. The awful taste was back in his mouth but the thought of trying to drink again made his stomach fold on itself. Instead, he turned the shower on, realising only then that he had been naked all this time.

“Come on, Winchester! Get a grip,” he berated himself under his breath, his own voice too loud in his ears. He tried to ignore it, like he was trying to ignore the pounding noise the water made as it fell in the bathtub. It was almost like being stuck under a tin roof during a hail storm.

He couldn’t take it for very long. He shut off the water after no more than two minutes before drying himself quickly. He opened the door but, having forgotten it was so bright in the room, he closed it again. Flickers of lights danced behind the safety of his closed eyelids, mirroring the throbbing in his skull.

When Dean was finally able to open his eyes again, the realisation of his situation made his knees buckle. He let his muscled frame slide down the wooden door, too spooked to be flinching when his bare bottom hit the cold tiles.

He remembered. He had been hungover before, and this wasn’t it. He’d felt this way only once in his life and there was no way he could have forgotten about it. The loudness, the brightness, the insatiable hunger… he was turning into a fucking vampire. Again!

The enraged cry he let out resounded in his ears like a thousand cannons. He grabbed his head in his hands in a failed attempt to muffle the ringing in his brain. Dean tried to think about the previous night but could only remember bits and pieces. He recalled alcohol, lots of it. There was also a girl, a redhead. _Abaddon!_

He held onto the Formica vanity top to haul himself up. As he grabbed the handle, he closed his eyes and opened the door. Even with his eyes closed, he was still almost blinded by the daylight. He put a hand over his eyes again and navigated himself towards the curtains.

The moment they were closed, he let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. The room was still a bit on the bright side for him, but it was tolerable now. He realised the bathroom must have been close to pitch black as he didn’t recall seeing a window and he never flicked the lights on. Still, he could see perfectly fine.

Eyes squinted, Dean looked around the room for his clothes. He found them crumpled on the floor, not too far from the door. A memory from last night popped in his brain. He was with a redhead, but it wasn’t Abaddon. And they had sex. He would have liked to smile at the thought but he was worried about what could have happened to the girl.

As he was putting on his pants, he forced himself to look around the room, however painful it was. If he was alone, if there was no dead body in the room, then it probably meant he hadn’t fed yet. And if he hadn’t fed, he could still be cured.

He was about to pull his t-shirt over his head when he noticed the dresser’s mirror with the scribbles on it. Forgetting about getting dressed, he went to read the message.

_“Come to the bar tonight. We will feast. M.”_

_“M?”_ Dean thought, recognition trying to make its way to the forefront of his mind. _“Mary? Maria? Marla?”_ he tried to remember, each name ringing somewhat true but never enough.

It was only when he picked up the woman’s lingering smell that he remembered her name: _Maura._ He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring every note of the magnolia flowers, sweet spices, and coconut, all strung together by a delicate ribbon of warm blood and rotting flesh. Dean licked his lips, revelling in the vampire’s fragrance.

Still, the human part of him gagged at the odour. Palming his jeans pockets, Dean found his phone and flinched as he turned it on. He had to squint his eyes again because the screen was too luminous. Soon enough, he heard the ringing in the receiver, closing his eyes again and wishing for them to stop burning.

_“You’ve reached Sam Winchester. Leave a message.”_

Dean cursed. He could only hope that Sam was just sleeping or in the bathroom, not dodging his calls. “Hey Sammy. Call me back, I’m in big trouble. Vampire trouble.” He hung up with a sigh.

He forced himself to wait a full hour before calling Sam a second time. He got the voicemail once more but didn’t leave a message. The first one had been clear enough.

The third time, he couldn’t wait for more than ten minutes. He got the voicemail again and started to believe that his brother might actually be ignoring his calls. Dean opened his eyes into nothing more than slivers to find Castiel’s number. Unlike Sam, the angel answered before a third ring could be heard.

“Hello, Dean.” The familiar greeting sent shivers down Dean’s spine. He was going to be all right.

“Hey, Cas! Where are you?” the hunter asked without ceremony.

“Fort Smith, Arkansas. You?”

“Not far. Joplin, Missouri. I need you here, Cas, I’m in trouble. Can you come?”

“Of course. What happened?”

“A vampire turned me.”

Castiel emitted a soft gasp. “Have you fed? Where’s Sam?”

“I haven’t fed, no. And Sam’s not answering his phone. We’re… he’s mad at me. I think.”

“All right. Send me the address and I’ll be there as soon as possible. Do you need me to bring anything?”

“Just get here. We’ll sort it out then.”

“Very well. Stay put, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, I will. And… Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Just… thanks,” Dean breathed before hanging up.

He was about to text the motel’s info when he realised he didn’t even know where he was. He was glad he didn’t have to go outside where it would feel like his eyes were burning in their sockets, instead finding the address on the pamphlet on top of the TV. It took him forever to type it up, having trouble keeping his eyes on the phone. Even the lowest level of the screen’s brightness was too strong.

As Dean tapped the ’send’ button, he wished – and not prayed – that there were no mistakes. Still, he didn’t check, feeling an urgent need to rest. He crawled on the bed to hide under the covers, deciding he’d better just sleep until the angel came over.

 

≈ ◊ ≈

 

****

 

≈ ◊ ≈

 

Dean was startled out of sleep by a booming sound. Still half asleep, his brain tricked him into believing there had been an explosion. His first instinct was to let his body roll down on the floor and find refuge under the bed. There was a second explosion, and a third.

“Dean,” he heard Castiel call through the blasts. His cognitive functions finally caught up and he remembered. The detonations were nothing more than his friend knocking on the door.

“All right, Cas! I’m up, stop punching the door,” he yelled back as he crawled out of his hiding place and stumbled to the door. He opened it, making sure to hide his face behind his arm as he did so.

“I wasn’t punching the door,” the angel defended himself as he entered the room.

“Well, it sounded like it,” the hunter groused.

“I imagine it would, yes. How are you feeling?” Castiel said, not minding his friend’s foul mood.

Dean knew Castiel had asked him a question, if his inquiring gaze was anything to go by. But at that moment, he was enthralled by the rhythmic thud of the angel’s heartbeat. He licked his lips as a loud rumble erupted from his belly. “Huh?” he asked, mentally trying to calm his stomach down.

“I asked how you were feeling. I guess hungry would be a fair assumption,” Castiel answered for Dean who was trying to shake himself out of his trance. “Did Sam call you back?”

Taking his phone from his jeans pocket, Dean shook his head. “Pretty sure he didn’t, but can you check please? That shit’s too bright,” he said, handing Castiel the phone.

“Seems he hasn’t called. I tried as well before I left Arkansas and he hasn’t called me back either. Was he here or at the bunker?”

“He was here, but at another motel. I went out and met someone last night…”

“You had intercourse,” Castiel surmised, walking towards the scribbled mirror. “Who’s M?”

“Maura… she’s the vamp,” Dean explained in a low voice. He hated feeling like such a rookie.

“I take it that you were intoxicated?”

Dean didn’t answer but took a couple of steps back when Castiel walked towards him. “You better stay away, Cas. I… I’m afraid of what I could do to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean. Even if you tried to feed on me, I’m still angel enough to prevent you from doing it. But you’ve been bitten,” Castiel explained as he neared the hunter again. Dean flinched when Castiel’s fingers touched the bite marks. “I think it would be wise to disinfect and dress the wounds. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“In the Impala. And the Impala’s back at the bar,” Dean said in a low growl, hating himself for having been such an idiot. “I can’t go get it, not during the day anyway,” he said again, handing his keys to the angel and pointing north. “It’s not even five minutes out that way.”

“All right, I’ll go get your car then we can come up with a plan while I take care of you. Stay put.”

“’s not like I can go anywhere,” Dean grumbled as his friend let himself out the door.

It took less than fifteen minutes for Castiel to come back, bringing in the first aid kit he found in the trunk.

“I wanted to bring your duffel bag in case you needed to change but– ”

“Yeah, it’s at the other motel… with Sam.”

Castiel nodded, pushing the hunter towards the bed and sitting him down. He chucked off his trench and suit coats before rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“Getting comfortable there, chief?” Dean asked with a chuckle.

“I have come to appreciate the liberty of movement fewer clothes can provide. If it wasn’t so socially reprehensible, I would probably just forego them altogether.”

Again, Dean wasn’t paying much attention, busy trying to concentrate on anything but the blood pumping in his friend’s veins. Castiel was standing so close; biting his bare neck would be too easy. Dean cleared his throat and turned away from the temptation. “You almost done?” he croaked.

“Yes. What do you propose we do next? Find the vampire?”

“I can’t go out there, Cas. Not now. My eyes will explode.”

“I doubt this is a possibility, but it’s true they might hurt tremendously. I’m here to help you,” he reassured Dean as he stuck the last piece of adhesive to hold the gauze in place. He fumbled in his trench coat’s pocket and pulled out the hunter’s sunglasses. “Maybe we should go back to the other motel, see if your brother is all right. The Impala’s parked right outside the door. If you keep your eyes closed, it should be tolerable enough.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean agreed, grabbing the glasses to put them on. He let out a relieved breath at the artificial darkness before putting his t-shirt and overshirt back on. “So… how…?”

Castiel stuck out his bent arm. “Hold on to my elbow and close your eyes. I will guide you.” The hunter did as told but still uttered an harumph in doing so, hating the fact that he had to rely on anyone to just walk around. Would it be temporary or not.

“What about your car?” he asked when Cas sat behind the wheel.

“It can stay here for now. Where is that other motel you were staying at?”

Of course, Dean didn’t know the address of that one either but was still able to recount his steps from the day before. Thankfully, it had pretty much been a straight drive from the motel to the bar so they had no trouble finding the way back. Once more, Castiel went to escort Dean from the passenger seat to the room.

“Don’t open your eyes yet, I’ll close the curtains,” he said once they were inside. “Okay, you should be good.”

The minute his eyes were open, Dean noticed that his brother’s duffel wasn’t in the room anymore. On the small table in the corner, there was a folded piece of paper with his name on it.

“Sam’s gone on a hunt… without me,” he explained to Castiel after reading the note.

“Why?”

“Says he thinks we should take a break from each other and that he’ll be back in two days. Tells me to keep having fun while he works.” He pursed his lips, vexed by his brother’s spiteful comment.

“Does he even have weapons?”

Dean shrugged and walked to his own duffel bag sitting on the bed and opened it. “Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed as he rummaged through his stuff. “The jerk took Dad’s journal. And my angel sword.”

“He’ll be back in two days, right? I doubt that he’ll lose them by then.”

“No, I know… but the fucking vampire cure is in the book. I don’t know that stupid recipe by heart.”

“Oh,” Castiel replied, better understanding the reason for his friend’s outburst. “I’m sorry, I don’t know it either,” he confirmed as Dean took his phone to try and call Sam again.

“Hey, Sam… me again! Look, I know you’re pissed but I’m turning into a fucking vampire, man. I need Samuel’s recipe and you left with Dad’s journal. If you don’t wanna talk to me, just call Cas and give him the recipe, I don’t care. Just… please, man…” Dean pleaded into his brother’s voicemail system. He hung up and sat on his bed, crestfallen.

“He’ll call back,” Castiel offered as reassurance both for himself and his friend. “I saw that you’re supposed to be meeting with the vampire tonight. Do you wish to wait or should we track her down now?”

“I can’t do much during the day, Cas. And I can’t have you act as my guide dog either.”

“Considering that you’d be using your nose to find her, I would argue that yourself would be the dog,” Castiel offered with a small smile.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Chuckles,” Dean snapped back but he still smiled at his friend’s humorous attempt. “She’s expecting me to show up at the bar, might as well use this to our advantage.”

“She wants to feast, Dean.”

“I don’t intend on letting her do it,” Dean growled, unnerved by his revived hunger at the thought of what her feast would consist of.

“How are you holding up?” Castiel asked, mindfully stepping further from his friend. He knew how much of a tempting meal he might be to Dean. “Would you prefer I leave and come back later?”

“Only you can stop me if it becomes too much to bear. I’d rather you stay than see the vampire instincts take over.”

Castiel nodded, sitting on the other bed. “We will need dead man’s blood, though,” Dean said again after a while. “Think you can go get some?”

“But… where– ”

“We were here investigating a killer ghost. It was a quick salt and burn but Sam and I went to the morgue the other day. Maybe you could go back there and steal some?”

“How do I do that?”

“I don’t know… just say Agents Scott and Young were called on another case but you have to verify some stuff.”

“All right… and what should we name me?”

For the first time that day, Dean gave out a wide grin. “Bieber,” he responded, glad to take revenge on that time he and Sam had been dubbed Agents Spears and Aguilera by the clueless angel.

Oblivious to the reason Dean was suddenly in such a good mood, Castiel put both his coats back on and checked his inside pocket for his FBI badge. Satisfied, he nodded and went to the door to open it. “Will you be all right by yourself? I won’t be long.”

“I should be okay,” Dean confirmed, turning on the TV to test the brightness of it through his sunglasses. He sent a silent thank you to his lucky star when it appeared to be tolerable enough. And he thanked it again when he found out the room got free porn. For once, it wasn’t the entire universe that was intended on fucking with him.

≈ ◊ ≈

It was almost three hours later when Castiel came back to the room. He knocked before using the key to come in so Dean would make sure not to be facing the door.

“You took your sweet time,” Dean said when the door was closed again.

“It wasn’t as easy as you said. They asked many questions. I guess I should have inquired more about the case, but I persevered. Also, I had to go buy the ingredients for the cure.”

He didn’t look at Dean as he explained his whereabouts but he could still imagine the hurt look in his eyes. If Castiel knew what ingredients to buy, it meant that he had talked to Sam.

“So he called you back, huh?” Dean couldn’t stop himself from asking. As Castiel suspected, the hunter’s tone was laced with hurt. “Is he coming back?”

Castiel cleared his throat and shook his head as he was emptying the contents of the bag on the small table. From his coat pocket, he took out three syringes filled with what had to be dead man’s blood. “Your brother asked if it was critical for him to be present. I told him we could take care of this ourselves,” the angel explained.

“Yeah… bet he was relieved to hear that.”

“He was. But mostly, he was relieved to know that you weren’t on your own.”

Sitting up on the bed, Dean huffed. He wanted to argue about Sam not giving a shit about his situation, but he decided against it. The noises, the lights, everything was too much. Even having Cas so close was starting to be a huge problem, struggling to ignore his watering mouth and growling belly. They may have been in opposite sides of the room, Dean could smell the blood pumping inside Jimmy’s former body.

“If I knew for sure that my blood wouldn’t cement the vampire in you, I’d let you drink from me,” Castiel said in a patient tone. “But I don’t, I’m sorry.”

“’s all right, Cas… but please stay out of my head,” Dean growled, ashamed of the images his friend could have witnessed in his mind.

“I wasn’t in your head. But the look you’re giving me right now, I’ve only seen you send it to pie. Under the circumstances, it’s only logical you’d be looking at me that way.”

Putting his head in his hands, Dean let out a pained groan. “When can we go fuck that bitch up?” he asked, hoping the sun was close to setting.

“There’s still a couple of hours of sunlight to go. Do you think she would get there early?”

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbled, still hiding his face. “Maybe we should go find her after all.”

“Do you think she’s part of a nest?”

Dean lifted his head and turned to look at Castiel. “I never asked how you were doing, Cas. How’s the grace thing?” He knew the angel might not be at his best and running into a vamp nest could be a bad idea.

“I’m fine, Dean. Let’s worry about you for now, all right?”

“You sound like me. So it’s that bad, huh?”

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, so we’d better wait,” Castiel said unequivocally.

With a shrug, Dean leaned back against the bed’s headboard and started channel surfing. He visited all the channels about five times before settling on some cartoons. Better that than any of the soaps or procedural shows he had caught a glimpse of.

He realised he has been dozing off only when he was startled awake by his phone’s rendition of _Smoke on the Water_. He grabbed the device and looked at the screen, his heart missing a beat when he read his brother’s name.

“Sam?” he answered with a rasp in his voice.

“Hey, Dean. How are you feeling?”

Dean may have been glad his brother finally deigned calling him back, but he still noticed the chill in his tone. “Been better. How about you?”

“I’m good. Seems what’s happening here is a simple salt and burn too so… I’ll probably be done tonight.”

“That’s good. If all goes well, we’ll be done tonight too.” Both men stopped speaking, shadows of whatever they’d been arguing about still hanging between them. “So… is that it?” Dean asked, not ready to start grovelling to his baby brother. Especially when he didn’t even know what the hell he could have done this time to set Sam off.

“I guess,” Sam answered. “If you don’t need me, I’ll go straight back to the bunker, unless I find some other hunt. Just call me when you’re… when you’re fully human again, I guess.”

“Are you gonna answer?” Dean spat.

“Take care, Dean,” Sam only said before hanging up.

“Jeeze… I swear, you can hear the bitch faces when he talks.” Tempted to throw the phone at the wall, Dean instead let it fall on the bed. He looked up to see that Castiel was still standing next to the table, unmoving. “So… what are you up to when we’re done here? Got some heavenly duties waiting for you?”

“There’s always work to be done, Dean. The angels need help.”

“Of course… sorry for…” the hunter apologised, waving at his own person with a dismissive hand.

“I think it has been established by now that you and your brother are priorities for me.”

Dean huffed at Castiel’s affirmation. Again, he could give many examples where it hadn’t been the case, but he decided to let it slide. He was not feeling good enough to drive away the only person who seemed willing to help him out of the hole he dug for himself.

“The sun is setting,” Castiel said after a little while. Even with his sunglasses on, Dean could see how the luminosity was changing. Slivers of orange light slowly started painting the room, one streak travelling right across Castiel’s eye in a Ziggy Stardust fashion.

“What?” the angel asked, confused by the sudden mirth he could see in his friend’s features.

“Nothing, Ziggy. So, when do we leave?”

Castiel squinched his eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. “We could leave in about thirty minutes I think. Do you think you can handle being in a bar full of people?”

“I was thinking we could stay in the car until she comes. I can’t imagine how loud it’s gonna be in there. Plus… you know… lots of walking Happy Meals.”

“Let’s do that then… and when she has arrived?”

“I’ll go in and bring her out.”

Satisfied, Castiel nodded and brought the syringes to Dean.

The hunter took one and slid it into his flannel’s sleeve. “Keep the other two. I’m hoping I won’t have to use this while inside. It’d look suspicious if I had to carry her out of the bar. Just be ready to stick one in her if I miss my shot.”

≈ ◊ ≈

One of the nicest things about stakeouts – as far as Dean was concerned – was the fact that it was the perfect excuse to be munching on crappy food stuff. It was a like going to the movies, with jujubes, and popcorn, and coffee if you were into that sort of thing. Of course, with a body on the verge of becoming undead, the only snack available – or not – for Dean to nibble on was his best friend’s scrumptious neck.

“Man, do you have to sit so close?” he groused, unnerved by the delicious smells coming from the passenger seat.

“I could step outside the vehicle if you prefer. I can’t do anything about my vessel being so enticing to you.”

“For starters, it’s the blood I crave. And yeah… I think you’d be better hang—” Dean interrupted himself and started sniffing the air, his senses in alert. “She’s coming,” he announced, lowering his form on his seat and grabbing at Castiel’s coat to pull him down with him.

“She probably can smell you, just like you can smell her. I don’t see the point in hiding, Dean.”

“Shut up,” Dean said, trying to keep an eye on the bar’s entrance.

It didn’t take long for the gorgeous redhead to appear, walking towards the door, strutting really. She grabbed the handle but didn’t go in, instead turning around to lock her gaze somewhere around the Impala. Dean swallowed loudly, frozen stiff at the thought that they might have been discovered. Only when he saw her shrug and walk into the bar did he release a relieved breath.

“Shit! That was close,” he said, sitting back up. “Okay… so I’ll get in there and lure her out into the alley to have a little sexy time before the… the feast. You think you can bring the car back there?”

“Do you wish I give you enough time to engage in sexual intercourse?”

“What? Cas, no! She’s a fucking vampire.” Dean looked at his friend as if he had gone crazy… again. “I just don’t think she’ll want to follow me in the car, not if she wants us to eat. She’ll prefer that we stay close to the _buffet_.”

“All right. I will wait for you in the alley.”

As Dean got closer to the bar, he could hear what sounded like a thousand heartbeats. His own heart started beating faster, excited against his will by the prospect of feeding. The moment he opened the door, Dean’s mouth filled with saliva as the aroma of warm blood engulfed him. Nobody was bleeding – even though he could probably have told if they were – but the smell was so heady, it almost felt like it was gushing out through the skin of the patrons inside.

The sight of Maura sitting at the bar and smirking at him was enough to anger Dean and shake him out of his daze. Still, he walked to her in a confident stride, giving her his most seductive once over. Once in her space, he grabbed her waist with a firm hand and whispered in her ear.

“Wanna get outta here?” he murmured, his lips a soft brush on the shell of her ear.

She pulled away from him and smiled as if he was nothing but a disobedient child. “I promised you a feast, my love. And I always keep my promises.”

Putting his other hand on the back of Maura’s neck, Dean pulled her closer to him, locking his eyes onto hers. “I ate earlier, and now I wanna fuck! You know, build an appetite before we… indulge.”

He moved his hand from her waist to her arm, his fingers caressing their way down to her palm. As Dean grabbed her hand, he captured her mouth with his, intended on showing her what type of hunger he’d rather be satiating.

Now that he was sober, he noticed how her breath was anything but nice. The tang of what probably was some poor chap’s lingering blood sparked some kind of twisted desire. As much as he knew the taste to be a disgusting one, he couldn’t help his mouth from watering again. He was so fucking hungry.

“All right, let’s go,” a breathless Maura whispered as she pushed him away from her. With a smile, he helped her down from the bar stool and pulled her towards the back, past the restrooms and towards the emergency exit.

“Outside’s better,” he said when he felt her stopping in front of the ladies room door. “Come on, babe.”

She let him pull them outside without a word. She didn’t even protest when he pushed her against the brick wall on the other side of the trash bin. But Maura’s predator instincts quickly took over and Dean was no match when she forced him to switch positions. He didn’t have time to let the syringe fall in his hand before she pushed both his arms over his head, trapping them between the wall and her hands.

If she felt or heard the glass syringe break, she didn’t say a word about it, busy pushing her tongue inside Dean’s mouth. It’s only when the stale aroma of dead man’s blood hits their nostrils that Maura jerked away from him.

“What the fuck?” She grabbed Dean’s arm to pull up the sleeve on his arm, now bloody from the content of the broken syringe and his own blood. “You stupid boy. I wanted to keep you ’cause you’re so pretty… but now I’m just gonna suck you dry,” she threatened, her gorgeous face distorted in a grimace.

“That’s why I brought you here,” Dean replied, cocky. “I’d rather you stowed the teeth though, that can’t feel nice on my dick.”

Without so much of a reply, she resumed her former position but this time she hooked her teeth into his jugular. Dean gasped in pain, sending silent prayers to Cas for him to come and do his fucking job. He tried to look around and, even with the Impala parked less than thirty feet away, there was no sign of the angel.

The only reason Dean was still standing up was because Maura was holding him. When Castiel finally appeared behind her and injected the contents of both syringes in her neck, Dean’s knees buckled and he fell on the ground. He tried to stop his blood from gushing out of the open wound in his neck by pressing a hand to it.

“Cas,” he croaked, starting to feel light headed.

Crouching down to the hunter’s level, Castiel took the hand away from the wound and replaced it with his own. Eyes closed, Dean could feel the heat of the grace healing him, its power replenishing his energy levels. “Can you cure me?” he felt the need to ask.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I can only tend to your wounds. Otherwise, I would have done it already.” Castiel got back up and went to grab Maura who had been attempting to flee. With a double dose of dead man’s blood, the fact that she could even move was a miracle in itself.

“Lea’ me ’lone,” she mumbled, sounding as drunk as Dean had the night before.

Castiel didn’t answer as he took the stoned vampire in his arms and walked back to the car to dump her in the backseat. Dean was already sitting behind the wheel and started the car. He took comfort in the deep rumble of the engine before driving away when Castiel had finally settled next to him.

≈ ◊ ≈

“I’mma… I’m… gon’ kill ya,” Maura yelled from the bathtub.

“Sorry sweetheart, today’s your turn to kick it,” Dean replied, sending her a dark look from inside the room. “Shouldn’t we have tied her up?” Dean whispered to Cas. “She could– ”

“Don’t worry, Dean. I was able to use a bit of my grace to immobilise her.”

“Why the hell did you that for, Cas? We have ropes and stuff.”

“Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?” Cas replied with what, in Cas’ world, could be construed as a smile. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just cure you, all right?”

Even though he would have loved to tell his friend how stupid he was being, Dean instead huffed and shook his head. Cas was right when he said it was too late, but it didn’t mean he should keep doing it. Not unless he got his own grace back, that is.

“You think you’ll ever get your grace back?” the thought prompted him to ask.

The smile Castiel offered to Dean this time was bigger, even though it never reached his eyes. “I don’t know… I guess we’ll see,” he answered, handing Dean a copper bowl to collect the vampire’s blood.

Grabbing his knife, Dean walked to the bathroom, followed closely by the angel. He kneeled next to the bathtub and hesitated only a second before plunging the knife in her throat. He wasn’t sure why but killing her wasn’t as satisfying as he would have thought. She screamed through the hand Castiel clasped over her mouth as her blood filled the bowl.

When they had enough, Castiel moved his hand to Maura’s forehead and used his grace to obliterate her and erase all traces of her ever being there.

“Jesus Christ, Cas! Stop wasting your grace, would you?” Dean berated him.

“Isn’t this better than having to get rid of her corpse by yourself?”

“We do that shit all the time, Cas. Just stop it, all right?”

Without a word, Castiel grabbed the bowl and walked back into the room. He started mixing the various ingredients for the cure. Unable to find a glass or a mug, he presented Dean the copper bowl so he could drink from it.

“Just so you know, it’s gonna get pretty gross,” Dean explained, taking the plastic bag out of the waste basket. “I’ll be puking dark bloody stuff and passing out so… you know… just don’t panic, all right?”

Castiel tilted his head a bit to the side, eyes squinted. “All right. Is there a moment in time I should start to panic?”

“If I don’t wake up, I guess… if that’s the case, tell Sam to take care of the Impala,” Dean said with a faint smile. He wasn’t that much worried about dying, but he knew what was to come. “Bottoms up,” he declared before downing almost half of the bloody concoction in huge gulps.

Even though he had braced himself beforehand, Dean still fell on all fours as it started feeling like every fibre of his being was igniting. If not for Castiel keeping an eye on things, he would have missed the trash can when he started expelling the bloody goo from his body. The pain was excruciating, just like he remembered, but this time it somehow felt ten times worse.

When he had nothing more to vomit, his insides still lurched as if his organs were trying to break free. The hand Castiel placed on his back in a soothing gesture burned like hell and Dean recoiled from his friend with a pained yelp. Soon, he couldn’t even support his own weight and lay on the floor in a foetal position. The last thing he saw was Castiel’s concerned frown.

The angel let out a relieved breath when he noticed the hunter had fallen asleep. Well, he probably had blacked out more than fell asleep, but it was still a good thing. Castiel found Dean’s pulse in his neck; It was faint, but regular. Satisfied, he got up and grabbed the trash can to go rinse it out in the bathroom.

The sun was just about to rise when _Smoke on the Water_ resonated again. With Dean still unconscious, Castiel grabbed the hunter’s phone to see Sam’s name on the screen.

“Hello, Sam,” he answered, keeping his voice down.

“Cas? Did I… Is Dean all right?” a confused Sam replied.

“Yes. He’s sleeping it off right now, but the cure appears to have worked.”

“Good, good,” Sam breathed.

There’s a heavy silence on the line. “Did you need something?” Castiel asked after a little while.

“Nah… I just… So Dean is okay, right?”

“He is. Do you wish me to convey a message for you?”

“No… Well, yeah… tell him to call me back when he’s feeling good enough. Tell him I’ll answer.”

Castiel sat on one of the beds and sighed. “Can I ask what happened between the two of you?”

“You can… I’m just not sure I can answer you. Saying it’s complicated would be underselling it.”

“Because Dean didn’t even seem to know why you were mad at him.”

Sam huffed a small laugh but there was no real trace of mirth in it. “Of course he doesn’t, he never does. I guess I should only accept that and move on, you know?”

“Move on? Go your own way, you mean?”

“No, not at all,” said Sam, sounding a bit insulted. “It’s just… we don’t see stuff the same way so… let’s just call this whole mess residual effects of the whole Gadreel and Mark of Cain debacles.”

Castiel nodded, not minding that his friend couldn’t see him. He glanced over to the hunter’s comatose form on the floor. “Are you coming back here?” he asked Sam.

“I’m closer to the bunker than Joplin so I’ll just drive back there instead. You can tell Dean I’ll be waiting for him at home. In case he doesn’t want to call me back.”

“I will. Thank you, Sam.”

“Nah… thank you, Cas… I’m glad you were there to help him.”

Castiel nodded again and the line went dead on the other end. Unvexed by the conversation’s abrupt ending, the angel shut off the phone. He looked at his own phone to see that he had received a voicemail from an unknown number. He listened, hearing Hannah asking for him to meet her in Ardmore, Oklahoma, on an urgent matter. After one last appraisal of the hunter’s health, Castiel let out a defeated sigh and walked out the door.

≈ ◊ ≈

The sun was high in the sky when Dean woke up. Stiff all over from having slept on the floor, he sat up, rolling his shoulders and stretching his limbs until every part of his body had let out a satisfying pop. Next to him was his phone, the voicemail’s blue light pulsing. He was surprised to hear Castiel’s voice in the receiver, making him realise that he was alone in the room.

_“Hello, Dean. I’m sorry I had to leave you but you seemed to be recuperating nicely. Hannah requested my help on an urgent matter in Oklahoma. Angel business, as you might imagine. Call me if you need my help in any way. Also, Sam called while you were resting, he’d like you to call him back. He promises he’ll answer this time. He also says he’ll be waiting for you at the bunker.”_

Dean wasn’t surprised when the message ended without so much of a goodbye. He didn’t hesitate before calling his brother, relieved to know that they might be on speaking terms again. He got up as the phone rang in his ear, going through his duffle to grab some clean clothes.

“Hi, Dean,” Sam answered.

“Hi, Sam. So I hear you’re going back to the bunker?”

“I’m there already. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Irritable. Fucking thirsty and hungry!”

“Are you coming back today?” Sam asked, ignoring his brother’s complaints.

“Yeah…” He looked at his watch, unhappy to see that it was close to two pm already. “Looks like I won’t be home before nine or ten tonight. Want me to bring back some food?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just… try not to get in trouble again, all right?”

“I won’t…” Dean promised. “Bitch,” he added as an afterthought, still unsure where he and his brother stood.

It took a while, but when his brother’s answer came, the fondness was audible in his voice.

“Jerk!”

And that was all Dean needed to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, all the copyrights are owned by the people who owned them (that’s me taking no chances whatsoever)… 
> 
> I hope you liked it… if you feel like leaving comments, do not hesitate. I’d love to read your thoughts.


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